Crime Times Two

by Julie Howard

  Meredith’s mouth gaped at the accusation she somehow played a role in Caro’s death. Brooke choked out her next words. “She went on a hike and picked more of those mushrooms. They found pieces in Caro’s stomach when they pumped it.”

  Hospital monitors beeped and nurses’ shoes pattered on the tiles. Curtis gazed down the hallway toward Father Michael with a frown. Meredith held her breath, her mind racing to pick apart Brooke’s story. No witnesses, she realized. There was no one to back up Brooke’s story except Father Michael.

  Curtis touched Brooke’s shoulder. “You should be with her now.”

  ****

  Caro died hours later. After a hurried conference call with the Twin Falls doctor and the High County coroner, Curtis agreed the death would be ruled a suicide. Meredith wasn’t convinced. The deaths hinged on Brooke’s hospital hallway testimony and Father Michael’s support of her. Hadn’t Jacob and Brooke been having marriage problems? Hadn’t Jacob worried his wife wanted to kill him? Caro never woke up to confirm she purposely ingested the destroying angels. It rankled her Brooke slipped in a veiled accusation of her own, suggesting Meredith was partially at fault for Caro’s death.

  She sat next to Curtis on a second chair they’d set onto his back deck, snow cleared away, a blanket over their laps and ski caps settled over their ears. Their hands were bare of gloves despite the sub-freezing temperature, but Meredith didn’t feel the chill. Curtis laced his fingers through hers and drew them up to his lips. He kissed her fingertips before lowering their interlaced hands again. Meredith’s heart raced at the touch.

  Curtis gazed out over the yard where Jamie ferried Atticus along on a sled, shouting out she was a sled dog. “My grandfather always said the job of sheriff was twofold: to keep people safe and to make them feel safe.”

  Meredith waited. Three people were dead; they hadn’t been safe at all.

  “He said if people feel safe, a sheriff has a job for life,” he added, his voice low.

  She squeezed his hand, unable to believe Curtis would knowingly let a murderer go free in order to keep the illusion there was no crime in his county. But she heard him convincing himself he made the right decision.

  “Murder’s the last thing I want to consider when someone dies,” he said, his voice coming stronger now. “Most people are good, hard-working, and generous.”

  Atticus tumbled off the sled and Jamie stopped to help him up. The two of them started barking in unison and ran back and forth across the snow.

  “Sometimes they do. Commit murder,” Meredith said, thinking of Brian.

  Curtis gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return, just enough so she knew he was aware of her thoughts. She gazed at him and was glad he was such a kind-hearted person, even if a murderess would go free. Life was complicated and murky, full of half-truths and uncomfortable decisions.

  Being given a choice is the gift, she reminded herself. In some instances, choosing was difficult; where to live or whether someone was a true friend, or even between a murder and an accident.

  Meredith knew one thing though: If she needed to make a choice of who to trust in the end, she’d choose Curtis.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The buzz about the three poisoning deaths in Twin Lakes lasted exactly ten days. Then Stacey was fired from her job as city clerk. Down in the long valley, this was even bigger news. Getting fired took formidable negligence in this tiny, far-flung town, where new employees were so difficult to find. After a year of spotty attendance and sending her snooping brother to work in her place, Jonathan’s sister was sent packing by the city council.

  The news put deli-boy into more of a funk than usual. He’d been raised to a bit of local celebrity after the poisoning deaths since people learned he also ingested destroying angels and lived. His heroic recovery faded in comparison to such fresh controversy closer to home. Proximity always multiplied interest. Leona’s bitter attempt for a recall petition of Curtis failed to get enough signatures throughout the county. People were only interested in talking about the latest scandal.

  Honey, of course, prodded Meredith to apply for Stacey’s job. Meredith was stunned Honey would think she could fill such an important city role. “I’m not qualified in any way,” she protested.

  With everything going on, she’d only been back to visit Stacey once more, right after the woman was fired, and the two hours flew by. This time, the woman sported purple eyeliner and talked about losing her virginity in junior high school to her best friend. “He’s a big shot in California now, making up stuff for the internet,” she said. “I’m going to visit him some day. I bet he’d give me a job.”

  Stacey acted unconcerned about being fired, but Meredith wondered if the woman’s attitude was just a show of bravado. There weren’t many full-time jobs in Hay City and the surrounding towns.

  Meredith turned her attention back to the present and to Honey. “I don’t know why you think I can do these things. I suppose I don’t even know what a city clerk does.”

  Her friend laughed. “Not much in Hay City. They’ll probably just hire an assistant clerk position anyway to save money. They mostly need a warm body sitting at a desk. You’d have lots of time to learn the job.”

  “If I can get the job, that is.”

  Honey raised one high arching eyebrow. “Out here, dear, it’s who you know. And you know me. You get your application in and let me handle the rest.”

  Meredith was doubtful, but desperately wanted the job. A full-time job would offer her family security and maybe even enable her to start saving a bit here and there. Hopefully, Stacey wouldn’t hold it against her. She recollected Jonathan and his veiled threats with distaste and hoped he wouldn’t automatically be awarded the position.

  Honey waved that idea away. “Don’t worry. Jonathan doesn’t want a full-time job where he has to show up five days a week. Heavens, who does these days? Let me talk to the mayor; he’s an old friend. I know the city council folk too. I’ll put a word in.”

  Meredith didn’t protest anymore. Trying to stop Honey was like stepping in front of a freight train.

  ****

  “It’s okay,” Crusty said, though his downcast expression was in contrast to his words. “Although I’ve pretty much gotten used to you now.”

  Meredith gazed around the hardware store from her spot at the counter. There was only the rare customer who patronized the store, and then their purchases were usually paltry. Crusty didn’t need her there at all. In the past, customers made their selection and then gone in the bar to pay, having a beer before they headed home again to finish their project.

  “I don’t have the job, just put in an application and thought you should know. I’m not leaving yet. It’s a long shot, but this would be full time.”

  Her boss chuckled as though she were being foolish. “The mayor’ll be here in a bit. I’ll put in a word.”

  She smiled her gratitude. Having friends support her was a new occurrence in her life and this bolstered her determination to stay in Hay City. The downside to friends was they poked their noses into your life, an annoyance that would take some getting used to. Still, she would be heartbroken if she needed to get a job in another city and start all over somewhere else.

  Then there was Curtis. Meredith’s stomach clenched at the possibility of leaving him. Moving to Boise where there was a better chance to find a job able to support her and her kids would put them hours apart. Whatever was happening between them wouldn’t survive such a separation.

  She’d even started to consider letting him build a house for her, if that’s what it took. Living in a borrowed trailer was a temporary situation, meant to get them through the winter, until something could be done with the house. Daily, the snow piled up on the roof, and the water damage was spreading, seeping down the walls and rotting the core. Come spring, either the house would have to be repaired or, more likely, fall down on its own.

  “Morning, Merry.” The postman stomped off his boots and hauled his mai
l sack to the counter. Because the hardware store doubled as the local post office, mail for the more far-flung homes was left there for citizens to collect. He unloaded his bag onto the counter. “Couple of important looking missives for you this morning.”

  Meredith smiled to herself. Patrick the postman enjoyed finding new words for the letters he delivered. Communiques, dispatches, epistles; her vocabulary regarding letters was growing. “If they’re bills, take them away. I have plenty enough already.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said sternly. “This is the U.S. Mail. I’m required by law to make every effort to deliver each bulletin, whether junk mail or postcard.”

  There was no joking with the man when it came to the serious business of mail. “Of course. Just leave everything on the counter. I’ll get it sorted from here.”

  The daily delivery was a godsend as the chore gave her at least ten minutes of work during her four-hour shift. Meredith would sort the delivery and tuck each household’s mail into cubbies below the counter. Some people only showed up once a month for their mail, traveling in from their god-knows-where off-grid survivalist home and appearing ragged, rough, and barely surviving.

  “Guess you’ve heard the news from Twin Lakes.” The postman peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, satisfied by her puzzled expression. “Father Michael was shifted to a new parish in North Dakota. Two new priests in Twin Lakes already. Talk of the town. And there’s more.”

  Meredith waited, letting the news wash over her. Patrick enjoyed his job of spreading county gossip just as much as he enjoyed delivering the mail. “Brooke Burns put her house up for sale, moving out. Not surprising, considering all she’s been through. Her leaving is a loss for the community though. I always enjoy the lovely ladies of High County.” Patrick gave Meredith a nod, letting her know he included her in the description.

  She waited, frozen, somehow already knowing what he’d say next. Patrick chuckled and headed for the door. “She’s going to North Dakota, too.” He paused. “Guess they’re sort of a couple, you know? Father Michael and Brooke. Too bad priests can’t marry. They’d make a handsome twosome.”

  The door slammed behind him, punished by a whipping December wind. Meredith recalled her concerns over the strange threesome of Father Michael, Brooke, and Caro. What if it always was a twosome? What if there were three extraneous people staring over their shoulders: Caro, Jacob, and Father Karl? Every impulse told her to run to Curtis and tell him of this new development and share her fresh suspicions. It wasn’t so far-fetched to believe an unsanctified love was a motive for murder.

  She bit her lip, teetering between her suspicions and letting the subject go. I don’t want Curtis to be like me, she thought, always believing the worst in people. Maybe it wasn’t strange at all for a bereaved widow, one who recently lost her best friend, to follow the person best equipped to offer comfort.

  Curtis would never believe this new theory of murder, anyway. He wanted to think the best in people. Certainly, if ever there were a good place to commit a murder, High County would be the spot, with a sheriff who took the presumption of innocence to a whole new level.

  Crusty’s words echoed in her head about needing to choose one’s loyalties. Choice. A weighty gift to be given.

  I’m sorry, Jacob, if I’m wrong, but I’m going to trust the sheriff.

  Meredith forced her attention to the two letters addressed to her, nervous over their contents. Both were thin but ever since the postman set them on the counter, they had grown in her mind. She had an inkling of what was inside by their return addresses. First, she took care of the daily mail, tucking each letter in the rightful cubby, and glanced at her own letters from time to time.

  The first was from the state college where she’d taken the online chemistry course. Inside there’d be her final grade. Meredith opened this one first and avoided the other envelope for the moment. She scanned the brief notice inside letting her know her grade was a B-minus. The so-so grade didn’t bother her. There wasn’t money for spring classes; college would have to wait a little longer. Someday, the timing would be right for a college career; for now, she’d roll with the punches.

  Life is messy, she recalled her mother always saying; it’s all in how you handle it. She folded the letter and tucked the plain white sheet back in the envelope. She held it just for a moment, glancing at the garbage can, before sliding the envelope into her handbag.

  Meredith peered at the other letter on the counter. This one was in a white business-sized envelope with a return address from Fifteen Palms, Florida. She shivered. The grandmother she’d never met lived in Fifteen Palms.

  Jamie and Atticus were occupied with a book on tape, using a real old-fashioned cassette machine operating on ribbon tape cassettes. Crusty presented a handful of cassettes to Jamie when they walked in the door that morning, saying he found them at the top of one of the back shelves. The cassettes contained nursery rhymes and fairy tales, and her children were captivated by the device all morning. Jamie kept stopping the machine, letting Atticus pop out the cassette and reinsert it. Her two children peered through the plastic window and where the tape spun round and round, mesmerized by the rotations. The machine was a godsend since school was on holiday break for three weeks, a horrifying amount of time for a single working mother living in a small trailer.

  Fifteen Palms. The name evoked bad memories from the times as a child when she futilely sought her grandmother’s help. No help ever arrived, even as Meredith’s mother wasted away. What kind of woman would shun her daughter and granddaughter at a time of their greatest need?

  Meredith picked up the letter and examined the return address once more. Holt, Holt & Bailey Law Offices. The envelope was light, containing a single piece of paper. Even before she opened the envelope, Meredith knew her grandmother must be dead. There would be no meeting her now, the cold woman who threw her daughter out of her house without further consideration.

  Brian would have ripped the envelope open in a flash, eager to hear of a long-overdue inheritance. Her grandmother was wealthy and her husband often fantasized aloud about her death and a possible inheritance to come. He spent millions in his mind, buying houses at the beach, fast cars, and annual tickets to the Super Bowl. Brian never stopped believing someday he would be a rich man, one way or another. Meredith edged a finger under the flap and peeled back the paper to uncover the letter inside. Heavy black type showed on creamy woven paper, expensive and imposing with the firm’s logo at the top in bold script.

  “Dear Mrs. Lowe,” the letter read. “It is my sad duty to inform you that your grandmother passed from this world a week ago. My firm has represented your grandmother’s affairs for many decades and is now handling her estate.

  “I personally remember your mother and have fond memories of her as a child. I understand your mother has also passed on and I offer my sincere condolences to you.”

  She gasped softly at the mention of her mother and tears sprang to her eyes. She had no connection to anyone who knew her mother, and there’d been no one to share the depth of her loss when her mother died. The unexpected mention by someone who once knew her was both gratifying and painful. She wiped at her tears. The notice that her grandmother died left her cold inside; she’d never met the woman.

  “I am writing to you now under your grandmother’s instructions upon her death. You should know up front the bulk of her estate has been left toward building a new hospital wing in her name here in Fifteen Palms, Florida. Most of the remainder goes to various charities she supported over the years. She was a fine and generous woman.”

  Meredith’s hand trembled with rage. Her grandmother was anything but generous to her own family. Apparently, the woman enjoyed being kind to strangers more than to her daughter and granddaughter. Now, a hospital wing would bear her name as a testament of generosity. Meredith’s fingers itched to crumple the paper and throw it away. Only curiosity spurred her forward. There must be some reason the lawyer was writing to
her other than letting her know her grandmother died.

  “However, two items have been left for you and they are in the care of my firm. One is a small package your grandmother sealed before leaving in my possession. The other is a letter she requested I read to you in person and then destroy with you as a witness. Because of this unique request, I have to ask you to come see me at my office.

  Ms. Lowe, this is a strange request made stranger because of your estranged relationship with my client. I understand the reluctance you may have to go to the trouble of travel for what will be a paltry inheritance. However, I have read the letter. It clarifies issues surrounding your parentage, although your mother may have shared her own skewed version of events.”

  Her vision blurred for a moment. Your parentage. Her grandmother knew her father’s identity and perhaps why her mother never wanted them to meet. Her mother refused to tell her his name or anything about him other than to say she was better off not knowing him. Whatever terrible thing he did, wasn’t it better to know? She read the last paragraph.

  “Your grandmother was an impatient person, even in death. She instructed my firm to destroy this letter six weeks after her death if you do not appear. We certainly understand, however, if you would prefer to have this letter destroyed and the package mailed to your current address. In fact, in my opinion, this may be the most preferable option.

  If you decide to come to Fifteen Palms, a small sum has been provided for your travel costs. Let my office know and the funds will be made available.

  You have my condolences. Sincerely…”

  The hand holding the letter lowered to her side and Meredith dropped it to the floor. She walked out the door and into a thick snowfall, the enormous flakes blanketing the gray sky and landscape. Icy pellets stung her face and blew into her eyes, and the biting cold took her breath away.